Chapter Text
Elphaba Thropp didn’t believe in fate. She didn’t believe in prophecy or “destiny” or any of the other fluffy words people used to sugarcoat misery. Her life had been shaped by rejection and control—her green skin made sure of that. So when Madame Morrible summoned her and Galinda to her office with an “important announcement,” Elphaba braced herself for yet another twist of the knife.
The announcement was worse than she’d imagined.
“Congratulations, Miss Thropp,” Madame Morrible said, her smile sharp as a blade. “You’ve been selected for a most honorable arrangement. The Wizard himself has sanctioned a bonding between you and Miss Upland.”
Elphaba blinked. Then blinked again.
“…What?” she said flatly, thinking she’d misheard.
Galinda gasped, hands flying up to clutch her pearl necklace as if she might faint. “A bonding?! With her?” Her wide brown eyes darted to Elphaba like she’d been told she had to marry a wild animal. “No offense, Madame, but I think there’s been a mistake. I’m clearly destined for someone of… higher station.” She tossed her golden curls over her shoulder, flashing a brilliant smile.
Madame Morrible’s eyes narrowed. “There is no mistake, Miss Upland. You two have been selected for the Wizard’s grand plan. Alpha. Omega.” She stretched her arm, gesturing at Elphaba and Galinda, each sporting similar expression. “The most powerful Omega he had ever known, and the daughter of the most loyal supporter of the Wizard. The arrangement is final.”
Elphaba’s breath caught—not from surprise, but from the way Morrible’s voice dipped, just faintly, into something she’d heard before. That same tone had once accompanied another "opportunity" she'd been given. One that she had refused and attempted to escape. One where refusal hadn’t been an option and had clear consequences. Her shoulders tensed, and for a split second, she flinched.
She hadn’t forgotten that day. Morrible had made sure she wouldn’t.
Elphaba’s nails dug into her green palms. Her throat felt dry, her stomach twisting. “With all due respect, Madame,” she said slowly, voice barely containing her rage, “I refuse.”
“Oh, you can refuse,” Morrible said, her grin growing wolfish. “But I doubt you’ll like the consequences. The Wizard is not fond of disobedience. And for an Omega like you, Miss Thropp, I suspect life would become… unpleasant .”
The room fell into suffocating silence.
The silence stretched taut, like a string about to snap. Elphaba’s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of Madame Morrible’s words sinking in with every beat. Omega like you . The reminder was a slap to the face. She’d spent years pretending it didn’t matter, that she was above instincts and biology. But here it was again, thrown in her face like filth.
Her jaw clenched so tight it hurt. “I won’t be anyone’s pawn,” she muttered, voice sharp as broken glass. “Not the Wizard’s. And definitely not hers .” She shot a glare at Galinda, who was still looking between them with mounting panic.
Galinda’s panic, however, didn’t last long. It shifted into something far more irritating — indignation.
“Oh, excuse me ,” Galinda snapped, hands on her hips. “You think I want this? As if I’d willingly bond with—” She waved a hand toward Elphaba, eyes dragging from her scuffed boots to her black dress to her sharp, unforgiving eyes. “— that ?!”
Elphaba raised a brow, lips curling in a humorless smile. “No need to be so heartbroken, Upland. I assure you, you’re not exactly my dream Alpha, either.”
“Dream Alpha?” Galinda gasped, scandalized. Her face flushed pink with outrage. “I am the most esteemed eligible Alpha of the Upper Uplands! I could bond with royalty if I wanted to! People beg to be with me, Elphaba!” She jabbed a perfectly manicured finger toward her own chest. “ Beg !”
“Then go bond with them,” Elphaba shot back. “I’m sure they’d love to have you.”
“I would if I could, you broomstick of a woman!” Galinda snarled, taking a step forward. The air shifted, and for a second, Elphaba swore she felt it — something sharp and primal threading its way into the space between them. It wasn’t just Galinda’s anger; it was something deeper. Something distinctly Alpha .
Elphaba’s instincts prickled in response, but she shoved them down. She’s just posturing. She always does this.
Madame Morrible clapped her hands once, the sound echoing through the room. “Enough of this childishness. This arrangement is not about what you want, Miss Thropp. Nor you, Miss Upland.” She took a slow step forward, skirts sweeping behind her like a dark tide as she moved between them, gaze flicking from Elphaba’s clenched jaw to Galinda’s flushed cheeks. Her smile turned cold and wolfish.
“This is about Oz,” she continued, her voice honeyed and poisonous all at once. “And if you care at all about your futures, I suggest you learn to live with it.”
Galinda scoffed, recovering some of her breath in a huff. “What does Oz have to do with—?”
But Madame Morrible silenced her with a raised finger, and her gaze dropped on Galinda like a lead weight. “Your parents have already consented, Miss Upland. Eagerly, in fact. They see great political advantage in the union. Perhaps you should try living up to their expectations for once.”
Galinda’s expression froze, the blood draining from her face. “W-What? Momsie and Momsicle would never— ”
“Oh yes,” Morrible said smoothly. “Your mother practically tripped over herself writing back. Your other mother sent a secondary confirmation—‘With our full blessing,’ I believe were her exact words.” She gave a brittle, cold laugh. “They see great political advantage in the union. Perhaps you should try living up to their expectations for once.”
Galinda’s mouth dropped open. “They… they what?” she whispered, blinking rapidly. “Without even telling me—”
“They don’t need to tell you,” Morrible said crisply. “They own your contracts to Shiz, your wardrobe, your social placements. They always have. You're a showpiece, Miss Upland, and they intend to display you in the best window possible.”
The room pulsed with silence again, thicker this time, as if the very walls were holding their breath.
Elphaba watched Galinda, who looked like she’d been slapped. Her hands dropped limply to her sides. She was trembling—not from fear, exactly, but from the kind of humiliation that came when someone told you, plainly and publicly, just how little your will mattered.
She hated Morrible. Hated her in a way that went beyond anger, beyond politics or power. It was the kind of hate that comes from disappointment— personal disappointment. From once believing someone saw you. Believed in you. That your mind was something to be nurtured, not manipulated.
Morrible had genuinely mentored her into controlling her magic, enough until Elphaba had believed, foolishly, that she was chosen for her gift. That Morrible saw something rare in her. She had even, for a time, respected her. Admired her.
She had called her a mentor .
And then came that day at the Wizard’s tower.
That day when doors were opened that should’ve stayed closed, when truths spilled out from beneath the city’s green-glass gloss. That day when Elphaba, trembling and young, had refused to be complicit—and everything changed. Morrible's warmth had curdled into warning. Into punishment.
And now… this.
But there was no time to feel sorry for Galinda. Or herself.
Elphaba’s voice rose, sharp and furious, slicing through the suffocating silence like a blade. “You can’t force me to bond with her ,” Elphaba hissed, shattering the silence with ground teeth. “It’s illegal to force an Omega into bonding when—”
“Oh, but I can,” Morrible said, turning her back as if the conversation were over. “Your… father has agreed to it. Whether you sign willingly or not, his decision as the Alpha of the Thropps overrules your decision. And thus, the ceremony is in three days. And if you refuse…” She glanced over her shoulder, eyes gleaming with something far too knowing. “Well, let’s just say the Wizard has ways of encouraging compliance. Especially for little Omegas who think they’re too clever for the system.”
Elphaba’s nails bit into her palm, harder this time, hard enough to draw blood. But she didn’t make a sound.
“See you at the altar,” Morrible said with a final, sickeningly sweet smile as she swept from the room.
Elphaba threw her bag onto her new bed with a force that rattled the frame. Her breathing was sharp, uneven. She paced the room, like a caged animal, tugging at her sleeves, fingers twitching like they had nowhere to go.
Three days. Three days until I’m bonded to that blonde menace. She wanted to scream. Burn something. Throw her chair out the window just to hear it smash below. It just didn’t make sense why the Wizard was in such a hurry to tie her down.
Surely, someone like her wouldn’t be much of a threat to the Wizard’s regime? Unless they both knew something that Elphaba didn’t know herself.
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid,” she hissed under her breath, pacing faster. The more she paced, the more restless she was—overwhelmed by the cloying scent of Alpha’s musk clinging to every inch of the room.
She hadn’t heard Galinda come in. She had left this room the moment Elphaba entered their newly shared dorm room. Something about acclimating to a sudden stink. Or gossip with Pfannee or Shenshen next door.
“Stupid is right,” Galinda said, leaning in the doorway like she owned the room. Technically it was her room—but Madame Moribble decided that the two should room together; starting tonight. She had changed into her fluffy pink nightrobe, hair in perfect blonde curls even at this hour. Her eyes scanned Elphaba, slow and deliberate, like she was sizing her up. “You’re acting like you have a choice.”
Elphaba stopped pacing. “What do you want, Galinda?” She hissed, eyes narrowing. "Not going to spend the night with your entourages, after all?"
“Roommate check-in is a must, you know,” Galinda chirped, stepping further inside and letting the door click shut behind her. “I thought I’d come to check again how my betrothed is doing on this fine, life-changing evening.” Her grin was sweet, saccharine, and laced with something more cutting underneath. Irritation. “It is kind of rude to have you suddenly chucked in with me when I was promised a private suite earlier this semester—or any other semester, really.” She tilted her head to the side. "Settling well, sweetie? I'd thought not."
The green girl narrowed her eyes. “Leave me alone, Upland.”
“Aw, but we’re going to get married, Elphie,” Galinda said, the pet name rolling off her tongue with practiced ease. “Shouldn’t we be working on our… bond? ” The blonde shrugged. "Not that I care, but I've always thought having an obedient and loving Omega as my spouse would be nice. I do so love playing as the charming Alpha protector from classical love stories," she added, tossing her hair and flexing her nonexistent muscle build.
Not amused, Elphaba shot her a glare so sharp it could have carved stone. “Don’t. Call me. Elphie.”
“Ooh, scary.” The Alpha didn’t look unfazed at all. She wiggled her perfectly manicured fingers in the air, her tone dripping with exaggerated mockery, like a child teasing a ghost story. “What are you going to do, Thropp? Glare me to death?” She punctuated her words with a light, musical giggle, the kind that could easily charm an entire ballroom. “Honestly, it’s so quaint. You know, Alphas being afraid of their Omegas is almost unheard of! Usually, it’s the other way around—but, well, the more you know, hmm?”
Elphaba stalked forward, the space between them shrinking with every step. Her boots hit the floor in measured, deliberate strides — slow, but unrelenting. She didn’t even blink as Galinda’s expression shifted from mockery to something else, something less certain.
Galinda didn’t back away.
Of course she didn’t.
“I’m not afraid of you, Upland,” Elphaba hissed, her voice low, razor-sharp, cutting through the Alpha’s faux amusement like a blade. The words hung there for a beat — suspended between them like a spark waiting to catch.
Galinda’s lashes fluttered just once, then her head tilted slightly, blonde curls shifting like silk as she stepped forward that final inch, refusing to yield. “Good,” Galinda purred, her tone softer now but laced with something far more dangerous. Her brown eyes gleamed, locked onto Elphaba’s with an intensity that made the air crackle between them. Her smile twitched, not as playful anymore. “Because you should be.”
Elphaba stopped just short of her. Close enough to see the rise and fall of Galinda’s chest. Close enough to smell her.
It wasn’t perfume. Not this time. This was something more natural, rawer. Underneath the artificial, saccharine sweet floral tones, Elphaba could smell it. Alpha pheromones. Sugary and fruity. They were faint, but they were there. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.
No.
For one breathless second, Elphaba wasn’t sure if she wanted to shove Galinda away — or grab her by the throat. Anything to stop that rising scent from tainting her olfactory senses.
Galinda tilted her head, her eyes narrowing like she’d noticed something too. Her lips parted slightly, and she sniffed the air, just once. Then her eyes darkened.
“Oh,” she breathed, her gaze snapping to Elphaba like a predator catching sight of prey. Her smile widened. The sweet yet mocking smile she always threw at her. “I didn’t realize you were already so… tense , Elphie.”
Elphaba’s entire body went rigid. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Galinda purred, leaning in, too close, too warm. Her brown eyes, usually bright with feigned innocence, were dark and calculating. They flickered to Elphaba’s throat, lingering on the soft, vulnerable skin there. Her gaze was far too focused, her pupils a little too wide. “Don’t smell? Don't look?" Galinda’s lips curled into a smirk, her tone teasing but laced with something darker. "It's hard not to, you know. I have perfectly functioning senses and I—”
“Don’t push me,” Elphaba hissed, but there was something shaky in her voice she hated. Her Omega instincts were too aware of Galinda’s proximity, too aware of the shift in the air.
“Push you?” Galinda echoed, feigning surprise. She leaned closer, her lips right next to Elphaba’s ear. “Darling, I haven’t even touched you yet. Physically, at least.”
Elphaba’s breath caught. Her heart was racing, but she didn’t back away. She wouldn’t give Galinda that satisfaction.
“You’re trying so hard to be tough,” Galinda continued, her voice smooth, syrupy, the way Alphas got when they were trying to coax Omegas into submission. “But I can smell it, Elphie.”
Her eyes flicked down to Elphaba’s throat, to where an Omega’s bond mark would go. Her grin widened.
“I’m going to enjoy watching you pretend this doesn’t bother you,” Galinda said softly, and there was something wrong in how much delight she took in it. “Three days, Elphie. Three days, and you’ll be mine.”
Elphaba’s fists trembled at her sides. Her breathing was shallow, sharp. The glasses rattled.
“Go to sleep, Galinda,” she muttered. “Or I’ll make you.”
Galinda blinked, her smile faltering for just a second. Then she laughed. An obnoxiously bubbly laugh that echoed through the room.
“Oh, Elphie,” she giggled, stepping back like she’d already won. “I think I’m going to love being married to you.”
Her scent lingered long after she left to her side of the room.
Elphaba stayed awake that night, heart racing, fingers twitching at her sides.
Three days.
Three days, and everything would change.
Elphaba didn’t sleep. Couldn’t, was more of the case.
She sat on the edge of her bed, head in her hands, eyes fixed on the crack of moonlight cutting through the curtains. The rest of the room was cast in shadow, cool and still — but her mind refused the stillness. It ran in vicious circles, faster with each lap, clawing at the edges of her composure.
Her thoughts returned again and again to Morrible’s voice — the clipped, triumphant tone. The certainty. The way she had turned her back without hesitation, as if Elphaba’s consent had never been necessary at all.
As if her life was just a line on some chart — a calculated move in the Wizard’s grand design. It had been, in a way — ever since the refusal she made just days ago, barely even two weeks since then. She had always known that there was a reason why the Wizard let her return to Shiz even after witnessing the secret he didn’t mean to reveal.
Then her mind replayed every second of Galinda’s smug grin, her too-close breath, the way her eyes had lingered just a moment too long on her throat. Her fingers twitched against her knees, muscles tight with the urge to hit something — or run.
Three days.
Her heart beat faster every time she thought about it. Not out of fear — at least, that’s what she told herself. It was rage. It had to be rage. She wouldn’t let it be anything else.
Across the room, Galinda snored softly, sprawled on her pink, ruffled bed like she’d never known a hard day in her life. One arm was thrown over her head, her mouth slightly open, looking so absurdly harmless that Elphaba had to clench her jaw to keep from screaming.
She’s just a spoiled brat, Elphaba reminded herself. A spoiled brat with Alpha instincts she barely understood.
But it didn’t make her feel better.
If anything, it made her feel worse — like she was the only one being slowly pulled under while Galinda floated above it all, blissfully untouched. The unfairness of it scraped at her bones. Galinda hadn’t been threatened. Galinda hadn’t been told that her biology made her government property. She might be in the same boat as she was, but at least Galinda was not the one under supervision and leash.
Elphaba dragged a hand through her hair, fingers catching in a knot she hadn’t noticed. Her shoulders ached from being hunched, from hours of tension that had never quite left her since Morrible’s office. Her body felt too full, too loud. Like her skin was humming with a warning she couldn’t turn off.
Her eyes shifted to Galinda’s vanity, lined with little glass bottles of perfume. Each one had a dainty label with names like Peony Bliss and Springtime Splendor. Useless attempts to mask something far more natural beneath it. She could still smell the faintest trace of it in the air — that warm, heady scent that clung to Galinda’s skin. Faint, but persistent. The scent of an Alpha.
Elphaba hated that her senses were sharp enough to notice it.
The following morning, Elphaba kept her head down. She figured if she kept moving, didn’t make eye contact, and stayed surrounded by as many people as possible, she’d be fine. Galinda thrived on attention. She wouldn’t start something that would hurt her reputation in front of a crowd. Being caught close with someone green like her after months of legendary fights would certainly hurt her.
But that plan didn’t account for Galinda being Galinda.
As in, the sparkling golden girl who was determined to ensure Elphaba’s live was a living hell.
“Elphie, wait up!”
Elphaba groaned under her breath, walking faster. She heard Galinda’s heels click-click-click behind her, faster now, like she was chasing prey.
“Don’t ignore me, Elphie!” Galinda’s sing-song voice was too sweet, too sharp, like honey with broken glass mixed in. As if her cloying scent wasn't annoying enough already.
“Go away, Upland,” Elphaba muttered, not even turning around. She ducked down a hallway, weaving between students.
But Galinda was faster.
With a swirl of pink fabric and a sudden grip on Elphaba’s sleeve, Galinda spun her around. “Stop running from me, Elphie,” she huffed, like she was offended. Her large brown eyes narrowed, wild blonde curls bouncing as she tilted her head with mock sweetness. “Honestly, it’s rude. And since we’re getting married in two days, I’d think you’d want to work on your manners.”
“Married,” Elphaba spat, yanking her arm free with a sharp twist. “Forced bonding is not marriage, Upland.”
Galinda tilted her head the other way, eyes narrowing like she was studying her.
“You’re so dramatic,” Galinda said, clicking her tongue. She took a slow, deliberate step forward, forcing Elphaba to step back. “You act like it’s the end of the world.”
“It is the end of the world,” Elphaba snapped, stepping back again. Her back hit the wall. Wrong move.
Galinda’s grin was all teeth now. “Don’t be so fatalistic,” she purred, leaning in close — too close — until Elphaba could feel her breath against her cheek. The green girl held her breath at the sudden attack of pheromones in this proximity. “If you stopped fighting everything for one second, you’d realize it’s not that bad.”
“Back off,” Elphaba hissed, hands braced against the wall like she could push it open with sheer willpower. She hated this. The stupid Alpha's scent was everywhere now, no longer mixed with the usual artificial scent of perfumes. Galinda was doing this on purpose.
She hated how her Omega side couldn't help but instinctively react.
Galinda’s eyes dropped to her hands, her grin faltering for just a second. Her gaze dragged slowly, purposefully, from Elphaba’s wrists to her throat, lingering too long on the soft spot just beneath her jaw. Elphaba’s breath caught, every Omega instinct suddenly hyper-aware of the Alpha’s focus.
“Oh,” Galinda said, her eyes snapping back up to meet Elphaba’s. Her pupils were blown wide, something sharp and focused in her gaze now. “That’s why you’re acting like this.”
Elphaba’s heart skipped. “Don’t—”
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Galinda whispered, her voice low, too low, too soft for anyone else in the hallway to hear. Her grin came back, slow and knowing. “You’re about to go into heat.”
Elphaba shoved her.
Hard. Her magic reinforcing her strength.
Galinda stumbled back, but somehow managed to keep herself looking elegant as she regained her balance. She was shocked for once, eyes wide with surprise. But the surprise only lasted a second before she started laughing. She threw her head back, letting out a high, glittering giggle that echoed down the hall. Several students glanced their way, confused but too afraid to intervene.
“You are, aren’t you?” Galinda gasped through her laughter, wiping at her eyes like this was the funniest joke she’d ever heard. “Oh, that’s rich. No wonder you’re all twitchy like a skittish animal.”
“Go laugh somewhere else,” Elphaba snarled, shouldering past her and stalking down the hall. Her nails dug into her palms again, but this time it wasn’t anger. Heat. It wasn’t here yet, but it was coming. She could feel the first hints of it like the distant rumble of thunder before a storm.
“Where are you going, Elphie?” Galinda called behind her, still giggling. “Should I fetch you a nesting blanket? Maybe some tea?” Her voice rose into a singsong lilt. “You’ll need it for when you’re crying all over your bed.” She leaned close, voice husky. “Maybe you’d be begging for me to breed you well.”
Elphaba didn’t turn around. If she did, she wasn’t sure if she’d run away — or throw Galinda through the nearest window.
It was in the middle of the night, perhaps, when Elphaba woke up drenched in sweat. Her blankets clung to her skin, suffocating, burning hot. She shoved them off, gasping, her breath shallow and fast like she’d just run a mile.
No. Not now. Not here.
Her entire body felt wrong. Her skin was too tight. Her clothes were unbearable. Her heart wouldn’t slow down, each thump echoing in her ears like a warning bell.
Not now. Not now. Not now.
Elphaba staggered to her feet, her head spinning as she tried to steady herself. The heat coursing through her body was unbearable, crawling under her skin like fire. She clenched her teeth, biting back a groan, and forced herself to focus.
Suppressant. She needed her suppressant. Now.
Her eyes flicked to the drawer near Galinda’s side of the room, the very one where she’d hidden the small vial. It was intended as a shared cupboard, but Galinda had taken the liberty of most of them except for one. Her eyes glided elsewhere, swallowing relief once she made sure the blonde Alpha wasn't on her bed. With shaky steps, she made her way across the room, her legs barely supporting her weight. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, each one making her chest ache.
The room felt darker, heavier somehow, and every creak of the floorboard beneath her feet sounded deafening in the stillness of the night. Her pulse raced as she neared the drawers, her fingers trembling as she reached for the handle.
She hadn't been able to open it when the door creaked. And there she was.
Galinda stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes, her blonde curls a mess. Her pink nightrobe hung off one shoulder, exposing her collarbone. Her gaze shifted from sleepy confusion to sharp awareness the second she saw Elphaba standing in the middle of the room, trembling, skin flushed a deep green.
“Oh,” Galinda said softly. Her eyes shifted to the window, where moonlight cast a glow over Elphaba’s face, catching the faint sheen of sweat on her brow. She sniffed the air, once, twice. Her lips parted, sharp fangs peeking behind pink lips.
Elphaba saw it. Saw the exact moment instinct kicked in.
“Go back to bed, Galinda,” Elphaba said, her voice hoarse, cracking. She took a step back, eyes locked on the Alpha in front of her.
Galinda didn’t move. She didn’t even blink. Her pupils dilated, her gaze pinned to Elphaba like she’d spotted something she’d been hunting for a long, long time.
“Elphie,” she said, her voice softer now, not the sharp, playful lilt she usually used. No, this was something slower. Heavier. Warmer. She stepped forward, slowly, deliberately, as if she didn’t want to scare her away.
Elphaba’s heart skipped again, too fast, too loud. She could feel it in her throat. She backed away, until the back of her knees hit the side of her bed. She hated it.
“Don’t,” Elphaba whispered, her eyes locked on Galinda like a cornered animal. Her fists were on her sides, clenching tightly around the sheets. “Don’t .”
“Don't do what?” Galinda murmured, tilting her head as she took another step forward, slowly; like she had all the time in the world. Her eyes flickered with something new. Something like hunger.
Her gaze dropped again. To Elphaba’s throat.
To the soft, unmarked place where a bond bite would go.
"Don't help you?" The Alpha continued, her tone soft but laced with an almost teasing, hungry, edge. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and for a brief moment, the faint gleam of her Alpha fangs caught the dim light. She took another step forward, slow and deliberate, her presence suffocating in the quiet of the room. “You’ll feel better if you just let me help, darling.”
Elphaba’s jaw clenched tightly, her fists trembling as she tried to summon the strength to push back against the overwhelming heat and Galinda’s oppressive presence. "No," Elphaba growled, though it lacked the intimidating tone she was aiming for. “Don’t come closer. Go to sleep, Upland,” Elphaba whispered. Her voice wasn’t nearly as strong as she wanted it to be.
Galinda’s smile was back. Not playful. Not sweet.
Just sharp.
Dangerous.
“No,” she replied simply, her voice soft but resolute, as if the word itself was final.
Elphaba growled, jaws tight as she glared at the Alpha prowling in front of her; flaunting how capable she was with her scent. Her skin felt too hot, too tight. The air felt thick, every breath laced with the sharp tang of Galinda’s infuriating Alpha scent.
“Go. To. Bed,” Elphaba gritted out, her voice shaking despite her best effort to sound firm. Her things rattled. If she was more focused, then she might be able to throw her things at Galinda’s smug face, probably injure the pink menace, and chase her away.
But the haze prevented her so.
And so, Galinda didn’t go to bed. Of course she wouldn’t.